


Smoke and Ash

by HDLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Little bit of Fluff, Major spoilers for Season 2 Episode 6, Pre-Relationship, Vomiting, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27883639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDLynn/pseuds/HDLynn
Summary: You and Din deal with some the emotional aftermath after tragedy strikes.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 123





	Smoke and Ash

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this one-shot contains Major spoilers for Season 2 Episode 6

The taste was burned into your mouth. The smoke, metallic and acrid, was still heavy in your lungs even as you sat in the hold of Slave I.

Had it been just this morning? Just a handful of hours ago that you were watching as Din had been playing with the child, with Grogu. How you had seen it confirmed that Din really did smile when he tilted his helmet in that way when he had done so and then chuckled in delight along with you at the kid’s antics. Had seen the moment Din had nearly choked when you both had realized that your time together as this strange little found family was growing short. 

Even though you could tell that Din was struggling with the idea of parting with the child, you both had known that if Grogu wanted to learn and grow in the way of the Jedi that the time between all three of you would end for the best. You just hadn’t wanted to think of what happened after that.

It was supposed to be bittersweet, taking Grogu to the Jedi holy site. You had reservations about letting your little green boy go, but… if it was the best for him you knew it was the right thing to do. But this? No, this was just bitter and sickening. It wasn’t right at all.

You had nearly lost it when you and Din had been picking through the wreckage of the Crest. The sight of him putting the silver ball into his pouch like it was the most precious gem had been painful. It had been even more painful than the loss of everything else. After all, while the Razor Crest had been a sort of home to the three of you, if had been just a ship. And the items inside just things. What did they compare to your little bright-eyed child full of wonder and so much love in his little green body?

Grogu was supposed to be with people who cared for him, kept him safe, could train him. People who could love him like you did, like you knew Din did. Yet now he was in the hands of the exact person you and Din had been trying to keep him safe from.

You retched and swallowed hard, you hadn’t been there when Din had rescued the kid back on Nevarro all those months ago but he had told you. He had told you of that and his sins before he had even told you his name.

He’d been certain that you would despise him for it, already running from you by trying to show you how bad a man he was. But you already had seen enough, seen enough to know Din looked at himself through a mirror that was clouded with guilt. You felt you could see him clearly even though you didn’t know his face.

Din had gone up to get the kid while you and Fennec and the other Mandalorian — Boba was is? — Had covered him. But everything had gone to shit so quickly when it had seemed to be finally going alright. You all had literally taken care of two transports worth of troopers, blood singing in your veins with adrenaline when the Razor Crest had been utterly destroyed.

The taste of smoke and ash was still in your mouth, but your mind was heavy. So heavy, the hold was small but empty. You felt like you would rattle around like a single marble in a box.

Din was up in the cockpit with your two new allies. But the space was small, so you had stayed below.

The lights seemed to flicker overhead, the ship shuddering as it jumped into hyperspace.

Closing your eyes against the jarring lights, you felt the pain in your heart shift into your head. Stress and anxiety making you shaky as you pushed up. You knew the feeling that was roiling in your stomach and you ran for the fresher.

The door clattered closed as your body crumpled in front of the toilet.  
  
Bent over and arms clutching the bowl, you dry heaved before you finally lost what little your stomach had contained.

“Kriff,” you croaked as acid choked your heart and throat. Tears streamed down your face as another set of heaves racked your body at the same time the small refresher door was ripped open.

Gasping you looked over to the door and saw the bright silver of Din’s beskar swimming in your sight.

“Dank farrik,” Din muttered even as he closed the door and took the single step that was needed to reach you. “You’re sick cyar’ika.”

You spat into the toilet before you shook your head, your mind swimming too much to notice that he was calling you that new nickname again. “I’m fine, Mando,” you say quietly, not sure how far sound traveled you didn’t want to use his name. After all it had been only recently that he had given that gift to you.

“Stay there,” Din ordered. He rummaged under the sink until he found a small cup and then filled it from the sink.

“Rinse and spit,” he said, handing over the cup filled with water. His hands were large and warm over yours, when had he taken the gloves off?

You did as he ordered, getting rid of the acrid taste in your mouth as best you could before sipping on the water to try and offset possible dehydration. When you were done, Din took the cup and placed it on the tiny sink counter which looked like it barely was large enough for the cup much less anything else.

Din paused then, looking oddly out of place in the armor that was practically his second skin. He shifted back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching.  
It clicked then.

“Din, please,” you whispered, so quiet you weren’t sure he heard you even as you reached your hand out to him.

He froze, his hand automatically coming out to help you up. His fingers were warm and strong around your own. You knew from experience that he could easily pull you up but instead this time you gently pulled downwards. Your eyes beckoning him to join you and for a moment you thought he would pull away but then your Mandalorian practically crumbled onto himself and he joined you on the floor.

Bits of his armor scraped against the wall as he enfolded you into his chest. One of your hands came to rest on the geometric design in his breastplate as he fully enclosed you into his arms.

It didn’t matter that he was still wearing all his armor. It didn’t matter that the space was small and cramped for you both or that your limbs were tangled up awkwardly. You both needed to feel the touch of another, to not so alone in your grief and guilt.

“We are going to get him back,” you swore into the rough fabric of his cowl.

He pulled back, a bare hand finding the side of your face. The blank visor looked at you until you felt like you could somehow, impossibly, see where his eyes were before you felt a ragged breath under your hand.

But when it happened again and he turned from you, you knew Din was crying.

Din’s grip on your hips tightened, “I, I failed the kid. I failed Grogu,” the words came out like they were being torn from his chest, his heart shattering on the floor. “He trusted me and I let-“

“No,” you stopped him, fire sparking in your eyes. “This isn’t just you, I’m not letting you bear this alone.”

“But-”

“Din,” you spoke his name for the first time, quiet but firmly as your hand found the side of his helmet. You pressed gently until he was looking at you again. “You did what you could. If you could’ve done more — thought of another way in the moment — you would have done it. You know that. I know that because I know you. There were too many of them. Anything more would have been reckless and could have put Grogu in more danger.”

His helmet hit the metal wall with a flat thud, not agreeing with you but also not arguing either.

There was a silence that bloomed between you both, not awkward but yet it still thrummed with the pain of two broken hearts. And you had the ever-growing suspicion that Din’s hurt went so deep that he probably felt like he might shatter any moment. Like brittle metal under stress. He had bent so many times already so many blows of grief that others would have given up and yet he had kept going. You wouldn’t let this be the time that broke him if you could help it.

“Cyar’ika,” you started falteringly, still not sure exactly of what that word meant though you had a suspicion. A theory that was built on the certain way his helmet would tilt when looking at you, or how his hands lingered and hovered over yours.

You couldn’t help but smile sadly when Din’s helmet jerked towards you at the word. “You aren’t alone in this. We aren’t alone in this. We’re going to get him back.”

Din let out a heavy breath as he nodded once, one of his hands coming to rest heavy on the back of your forehead as he drew you in closer. Both of you bending in towards the other until the cool metal of his helmeted forehead came to hesitantly and then more firmly rest again your own.

You didn’t know what this meant fully, even as your eyes fluttered shut. But you knew that your Mando — your Din — was being as open as he could at this moment. That was all you needed to know until you got your boy back.

~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> Translation  
> Cyar’ika - sweetheart / darling


End file.
